


The Other Side of Reality

by krazyk2314



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Angst, F/M, Political Asylum
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2019-07-13 19:06:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 13,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16024109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krazyk2314/pseuds/krazyk2314
Summary: Locked up in an Asylum, you finally gather up the courage to talk to Dean Winchester. He tells stories, ghost stories, and you began to wonder if there is a hint of truth to them.





	1. Chapter 1

Your light soled shoes barely making a sound on the tiled floor, you made your way to the library. People glanced at you as you went, and you wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to ignore the whispering voices inside your head. Voices telling you these people hated you, that they wanted you dead. Sometimes the medication helped silence these voices, but you hated how it made you feel.   
This was your fifth year in this Asylum. You knew all the attendants by name, along with the majority of the patients. You knew the nurses to stay away from, and the kitchen worker who would sneak you an extra cookie.  
And you knew Dean Winchester. He had been here when you arrived, sitting near the window of the library, an old tattered book clutched in his hands. He was handsome, with his light brown hair and eyes the color of grass. The white t-shirt and blue pajama pants did nothing to disguise his sleek physique.   
Nobody would tell you much about him, just that he had been in the ward for the past ten years, his hands badly burnt, his mental state extremely fragile. You had been warned to stay away from him, to leave him in peace. But time passed, and you couldn’t help but wonder about the man who seemed so sad and alone in the corner of the library.  
You still remembered the day you had been brave enough to go up to him. The day that had changed your life forever.   
Almost two months after you had been placed in the Asylum, you finally gathered up the courage to speak to him. Ignoring the voices in your head reminding you how stupid you were, how much he would hate you, you sat down in the chair across from him. Noticing for the first time the freckles covering his nose, the scars that went all the way to his elbows. His eyes wide, he stared your way, his mouth shaking slightly.   
“I’m Y/N,” you spoke, your voice shaky and breathless. “I noticed that not many people come talk to you.”  
“They stay away,” he mumbled, his voice deep and smooth. “The stories scare them away.”  
“What stories?”  
“The stories of my life,” he answered, pulling the tattered leather book closer in his lap. You could barely see it, but the corners were burnt, the once cream colored paper a crisp black.   
“I’d like to hear them,” you said, surprising both of you.   
“Why? You’re just another crazy person in this place!” He exclaimed, his entire body going tense. “You’re just like the rest of them! You’ll listen, you’ll laugh, and you’ll think I’m the craziest one of all! But it’s not true!”   
“I won’t think that,” you started to argue, even though the voices in your head argued with you. They were louder than normal today, full of malicious thoughts. It was your fault, your medication laying hidden underneath your bed. But you hated how foggy it made your brain feel.   
“Do you believe in ghosts?” He whispered, immediately calming down.   
“I truthfully don’t know,” you admitted. “Why? Do you?”  
“They’re real!” He yelled, drawing the attention of the attendant at the far end of the hall. “They are real, and my brother and I used to hunt them!”   
“Mr. Winchester, I think it’s time for your afternoon nap,” the attendant spoke, reaching down and helping Dean to his feet. He towered over you, at least six feet tall. Staring down at you for a moment, you were amazed at how clear his eyes were. He held himself tall, his shoulders straight, and for a moment you forgot you were in an Asylum across from him.   
“We can finish this tomorrow,” you suggested. “Because I’d really like to hear more.”  
Nodding quickly, Dean let the attendant guide him down the hallway and out of your sight. As quickly as they were gone, another person appeared, taking the seat Dean had vacated. He was in his fifties, his salt and pepper hair receding. Glasses were perched on his nose, as he crossed his arms across his brightly colored sweater vest. “I see you met Mr. Winchester.”  
“I did,” you answered, trying to ignore the voices that were quickly getting louder and louder.   
“I want to warn you against getting closer to him,” he continued, his eyes narrowing when you shook your head, trying to stop the voices from telling you how stupid you were. How the Doctor wanted to lock you up forever. “He is a very troubled man, and he’ll only drag you down with him.”   
“Please, stop!” You exclaimed, covering your ears until the voices finally faded away.   
“Miss Y/L/N, I think we need to up your dosage of medication,” the Doctor told you, snapping his fingers and an attendant appeared beside you.   
“I don’t want more medication!” You exclaimed. “Please….I’ll be fine.”  
“I think you need to lay down for a while, and then we’ll see,” Doctor Triven insisted as the attendant literally pulled you from your chair. “We need to get those voices out of your head.”   
You struggled at first, not wanting to be locked back in your room. But the attendant was stronger than you, and another one was waiting with a needle.   
“This will make you feel better,” the woman spoke softly, jabbing the needle into the soft part of your arm. The tranq took effect almost immediately. Your legs gave out underneath you, and if it wasn’t for the attendant, you would have fallen unconscious onto the floor.   
“This one sure is crazy,” he muttered, picking you up in his arms and carrying you down the hallway.   
“Kevin, we’re not supposed to talk that way,” the other attendant chastised as you fought the effect of the tranq. “You know the Doctor doesn’t like it.”  
“But can you imagine? Hearing voices? I heard they even tell her to kill herself! That’s why she’s here to begin with.”  
“I feel sorry for her. She had such a promising life. A fiance, a dream job. Then the voices started, and she tried to end it all,” the female attendant spoke with pity.   
“I know if she wasn’t in here, I would definitely hit on her. She’s sure a pretty thing,” the male holding you said, his hand snaking down your hip as you slowly slipped away. 

The effects of the tranq were worse than your normal medication. Foggy, you could barely open your eyes the next morning. Your head seemed five times it’s normal size, your tongue nothing more than cotton. Groaning, you rolled to your side, immediately noticing that you weren’t alone. The male attendant from yesterday was sitting there, your medication in his hand.  
“Finally, I was beginning to wonder if I was going to have to wake you up,” he spoke, a smile forming on his face. “Don’t get me wrong, being able to watch you sleep isn’t a hardship. But I do have other patients to torture.”  
Reaching out, he handed you the small paper cup of medication, along with a glass of water. Wondering how long you could them under your tongue, you slipped them into your mouth. “Now to make sure that you’ve taken them,” he muttered, reaching out. His large hand covered both your mouth and your nose, blocking any source of air. “You’ll have to swallow some time.”   
You fought against him, but when black dots filled your vision, you finally gave in. Swallowing the pills, you let out a big breath of relief when his hand lifted off. “Let’s see,” he continued, roughly grabbing your jaw until you opened your mouth. “Good girl.”  
Standing up, he wrote on his little tablet, smiling down at you. “I like being the one to take care of you.”   
With those chilling words he was gone, and you felt like you could finally breathe. Wondering if you could turn him in. If anyone would believe you. The woman who heard voices. Knowing that it would be unlikely, you slipped into your simple day garb. A white t-shirt, and a light pair of blue cotton pants. Your lightweight sneakers completed your outfit, and you made your way to the breakfast hall.   
You had missed the breakfast rush, as you quickly filled your plate with oatmeal and fruit. Only a handful of patients sat at the picnic tables, their heads down as they quietly ate the simple fare. You went to sit at your usual spot when you noticed it was taken. By Dean Winchester. Without even thinking, you sat down across from him, placing your tray right next to his. “Good morning,” you mumbled, curiously watching for his reaction.  
He muttered something under his breath, picking up his last piece of bacon and crunching into it. The tattered book sat beside his plate, his scarred arms covered by a white long sleeved shirt.   
“What’s the book?” You asked, sipping at the lukewarm coffee.   
“It was my Father’s,” he answered, pulling it against him. “It contains all of his secrets. Ways to hunt and kill Monsters.”  
“Will you still tell me stories today?” You asked him, watching as his lower lip trembeled.   
“Why? Why do you want to hear these stories?”   
“Because maybe they’ll stop the voices in my head. Even if only for a moment,” you admitted. “And I don’t know why, but I’m drawn to you. I want to know more about you.”  
“He doesn’t want anything to do with you,” the voices whispered, the medication already taming them, making them nothing more than a tiny whisper in the back of your mind. But you could feel the fog rolling in, your mind getting crowded with emptiness.   
“We can start now. If you want,” he suggested, standing up. “It would be nice to have someone listen while I...while I remember.”


	2. Chapter 2

Two Days Later

Your head rested on the pillow. Much as it had the previous two days. It took too much effort to lift it up, or to do anything actually. Devon, your attendant made sure you took your pills regularly. Pills that kept you quiet and asleep the majority of the time. When you happened to be awake, you had no energy to move, no energy to eat. You laid on your bed, staring up at the wall. Your mind still played tricks on you, the voices louder than ever.  
But they had changed. No longer telling you how stupid and useless you. Instead they whispered weird words, foreign to the ear. Never making any sense. Over and over they spoke, and more than once you covered yours ears, screaming until Devon came into the room.   
It was almost worse then.   
Ignoring the leer he sent your way, you continued screaming, your eyes squeezed shut as you tried to stop it. But it refused to stop, even when Devon roughly grabbed you by the arm, literally throwing you off the bed. “Shut up you stupid bitch!” He screamed.  
Opening your eyes, you saw his foot lift off the ground, dangerously close to kicking you in the stomach. He weighed his options as tears streamed down your cheeks. Finally he placed his foot back on the cold tile, rubbing a hand over his mouth. Grabbing your hair, he pulled you back onto your bed. “This medicine was supposed to make you better. To make you weak and lethargic. Yet here you are, screaming for the entire world to hear. Why can’t you just shut up and stop being so weird?”  
“The med….medicine,” you stuttered, your head absolutely pounding. “It’s no….not working. I n..nnn….need the doc...doctor please.”  
Ignoring your pleas he turned to the locked cabinet kept in your room. Opening it, he pulled out a syringe, and you immediately knew what that meant. Last time he pulled out the syringe, you had become nothing more than a limp doll. Laying on your bed, drool slipping down your cheek while Devon stared down at you. Sometimes running his hand along your skin.  
“I'll have you exactly the way I want you soon enough, he promised darkly, his eyes lighting up as he stabbed the long needle into your arm, not caring if he hurt you or not.  
As he injected the liquid into your system, there was a knock on the door. “Devon, you're needed in the east wing.”  
Frowning Devon stared down at you for a moment before pushing his way through the door.  
Even with the tranq immediately taking effect, you couldn't help but feel relieved. you weren't sure what would have happened if he hadn't been pulled from the room.  
The voices in your head started to slip away, the tranq finally giving you some much needed relief. Your eyes wanted to close, sleep an easy escape from this farce of a life.  
Your eyes closed, so close to your escape, you missed the sound of your door creaking open.  
“Y/N?”  
“Hmm,” you sighed, your eyes blinking open to see a very handsome man staring down at you. His green eyes stared down at you in concern, his forehead wrinkled. Freckles dotted his nose, and you reached up, tracing them with your finger.  
“Are you alright? I haven't seen you out of your room for a while,” he asked, making no move to get away from your light tracing.  
“New medicine,” you yawned. “It's not helping. The voices are worst.”  
He sat down on the edge of your bed, still holding that burnt book. “What are these voices saying?”  
Sighing, you smiled up at him. “I don't know anymore. They don't speak in English.”  
“They don't?”  
“It's a weird language, ancient I think. Dean, I'm tired.”  
Brushing the hair back from your face, he glanced down at bruises just peeking out of your clothes. “Then sleep. I'll stay as long as they let me.”  
Dreams came as you slept, brought on by the Tranq. Dreams bathed in darkness, confusing you. Faces full of fear, monsters with fangs. Men and women with glowing blue eyes. The feeling of falling, falling from way up high. A man placing his hand on your head, your entire body burning from the inside out.  
Screams woke you up, sending you straight up in bed. It took you a moment to realize they were coming from your own mouth.  
Dean had his hand wrapped around yours, trying to calm you.  
“That must have been a horrible nightmare,” he spoke softly, the feel of thumb running up and down your skin calming.  
“It was weird,” you admitted, the tranq effects leaving your system. The voices were trying to come back, just muted for now. It was a welcome relief. “I saw monsters, and other people and this strange man killed me.”  
“How?” Dean asked, his face serious.  
“He placed his hand on me, a bright light emitted, burning me from the inside out.”  
Dean sucked in a deep breath, his eyes wide. “Angel,” he whispered. “But why you?”  
“Angel? What? Dean, I...,”  
“Y/N, my best friend was an Angel. Before the...before the fire,” Dean spoke, his eyes full of sadness. “That's how they killed!”  
“It just has to be a weird coincidence,” you insisted. “I don't believe in the Supernatural.”  
Dean pulled back from you, visibly hurt. “But you...my stories! You listened to them!”  
You could see that you had hurt him.   
“Dean, I meant before I came here,” you tried to console him. “But your stories, they've opened my eyes.”  
“It doesn't matter,” he stated. “What matters is you. I noticed the bruises.”  
Before you could answer, the door was shoved open, a furious Devon storming inside. “No visitors!” He yelled. “Especially male!”  
He reached down to grasp Dean, but Dean was already moving, his eyes hard. “Y/N is my friend. I was concerned when I hadn’t seen her. Maybe I should report it to another nurse.”  
“No need,” Devon sneered. “They won’t listen to anyone but me.”   
You could see Dean struggling to stay calm. Taking care of you seemed to bring him out of his shell, making him much braver and sure of himself than he had been just days before. You could still see the little ticks of his fingers, the way his clung to the book. But maybe your friendship was affecting him in a positive way.   
“I dare you to do something monster boy,” Devon taunted, looking down at the book. “I’d love to see you in solitary.”  
Glancing between you and Devon, Dean quickly made a choice. His shoulders slumping slightly, he stepped through the open door, facing you one last time. “The library? Later today?”  
You nodded, just before Devon slammed the door gleefully in Dean’s face.


	3. Chapter 3

Two Days Later

Your head rested on the pillow. Much as it had the previous two days. It took too much effort to lift it up, or to do anything actually. Devon, your attendant made sure you took your pills regularly. Pills that kept you quiet and asleep the majority of the time. When you happened to be awake, you had no energy to move, no energy to eat. You laid on your bed, staring up at the wall. Your mind still played tricks on you, the voices louder than ever.

But they had changed. No longer telling you how stupid and useless you. Instead they whispered weird words, foreign to the ear. Never making any sense. Over and over they spoke, and more than once you covered yours ears, screaming until Devon came into the room.

It was almost worse then.

Ignoring the leer he sent your way, you continued screaming, your eyes squeezed shut as you tried to stop it. But it refused to stop, even when Devon roughly grabbed you by the arm, literally throwing you off the bed. “Shut up you stupid bitch!” He screamed.

Opening your eyes, you saw his foot lift off the ground, dangerously close to kicking you in the stomach. He weighed his options as tears streamed down your cheeks. Finally he placed his foot back on the cold tile, rubbing a hand over his mouth. Grabbing your hair, he pulled you back onto your bed. “This medicine was supposed to make you better. To make you weak and lethargic. Yet here you are, screaming for the entire world to hear. Why can’t you just shut up and stop being so weird?”

“The med….medicine,” you stuttered, your head absolutely pounding. “It’s no….not working. I n..nnn….need the doc…doctor please.”

Ignoring your pleas he turned to the locked cabinet kept in your room. Opening it, he pulled out a syringe, and you immediately knew what that meant. Last time he pulled out the syringe, you had become nothing more than a limp doll. Laying on your bed, drool slipping down your cheek while Devon stared down at you. Sometimes running his hand along your skin.

“I’ll have you exactly the way I want you soon enough, he promised darkly, his eyes lighting up as he stabbed the long needle into your arm, not caring if he hurt you or not.

As he injected the liquid into your system, there was a knock on the door. “Devon, you’re needed in the east wing.”

Frowning Devon stared down at you for a moment before pushing his way through the door.

Even with the tranq immediately taking effect, you couldn’t help but feel relieved. you weren’t sure what would have happened if he hadn’t been pulled from the room.

The voices in your head started to slip away, the tranq finally giving you some much needed relief. Your eyes wanted to close, sleep an easy escape from this farce of a life.

Your eyes closed, so close to your escape, you missed the sound of your door creaking open.

“Y/N?”

“Hmm,” you sighed, your eyes blinking open to see a very handsome man staring down at you. His green eyes stared down at you in concern, his forehead wrinkled. Freckles dotted his nose, and you reached up, tracing them with your finger.

“Are you alright? I haven’t seen you out of your room for a while,” he asked, making no move to get away from your light tracing.

“New medicine,” you yawned. “It’s not helping. The voices are worst.”

He sat down on the edge of your bed, still holding that burnt book. “What are these voices saying?”

Sighing, you smiled up at him. “I don’t know anymore. They don’t speak in English.”

“They don’t?”

“It’s a weird language, ancient I think. Dean, I’m tired.”

Brushing the hair back from your face, he glanced down at bruises just peeking out of your clothes. “Then sleep. I’ll stay as long as they let me.”

Dreams came as you slept, brought on by the Tranq. Dreams bathed in darkness, confusing you. Faces full of fear, monsters with fangs. Men and women with glowing blue eyes. The feeling of falling, falling from way up high. A man placing his hand on your head, your entire body burning from the inside out.

Screams woke you up, sending you straight up in bed. It took you a moment to realize they were coming from your own mouth.

Dean had his hand wrapped around yours, trying to calm you.

“That must have been a horrible nightmare,” he spoke softly, the feel of thumb running up and down your skin calming.

“It was weird,” you admitted, the tranq effects leaving your system. The voices were trying to come back, just muted for now. It was a welcome relief. “I saw monsters, and other people and this strange man killed me.”

“How?” Dean asked, his face serious.

“He placed his hand on me, a bright light emitted, burning me from the inside out.”

Dean sucked in a deep breath, his eyes wide. “Angel,” he whispered. “But why you?”

“Angel? What? Dean, I…,”

“Y/N, my best friend was an Angel. Before the…before the fire,” Dean spoke, his eyes full of sadness. “That’s how they killed!”

“It just has to be a weird coincidence,” you insisted. “I don’t believe in the Supernatural.”

Dean pulled back from you, visibly hurt. “But you…my stories! You listened to them!”

You could see that you had hurt him.

“Dean, I meant before I came here,” you tried to console him. “But your stories, they’ve opened my eyes.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he stated. “What matters is you. I noticed the bruises.”

Before you could answer, the door was shoved open, a furious Devon storming inside. “No visitors!” He yelled. “Especially male!”

He reached down to grasp Dean, but Dean was already moving, his eyes hard. “Y/N is my friend. I was concerned when I hadn’t seen her. Maybe I should report it to another nurse.”

“No need,” Devon sneered. “They won’t listen to anyone but me.”

You could see Dean struggling to stay calm. Taking care of you seemed to bring him out of his shell, making him much braver and sure of himself than he had been just days before. You could still see the little ticks of his fingers, the way his clung to the book. But maybe your friendship was affecting him in a positive way.

“I dare you to do something monster boy,” Devon taunted, looking down at the book. “I’d love to see you in solitary.”

Glancing between you and Devon, Dean quickly made a choice. His shoulders slumping slightly, he stepped through the open door, facing you one last time. “The library? Later today?”

You nodded, just before Devon slammed the door gleefully in Dean’s face.


	4. Chapter 4

The fluorescent lights ricochet off the clean white tiles. Blinking against the annoying glared, you continued down the hallway. Trying to ignore the fact that Devon followed behind you. Your fingers picking at the hem of your shirt, shaking slightly. Each footstep was a shuffle, your padded slippers sliding across the cold and unyielding tiles.

Passing the community room, you noticed the inhabitants staring your way, and you faltered for a moment, wanting to go back into your room. Back into hiding. It wasn’t a safe place. Not anymore. But you weren’t sure you could be here either.

The new medicine, your new rules had you nervous and afraid. It didn’t help that you Devon following your every movement. Devon was your constant shadow, always there when you never wanted him to be. Touching you like he had every right. Getting mad when you shrinked away from his touch.

He hadn’t wanted you to go to the library. The scowl on his face made it clear that he wasn’t happy with it. But you had wanted to see Dean. You needed to see Dean. He was the only normal thing in this place. Or at least as normal as you could get in an asylum.

“Devon!” A voice called out. The voice of the head nurse, a woman stern with a scowl in place at all times. “What are you doing?”

You stopped where you were, watching as Devon made his way to Mrs. Lynch, his scowl almost worse than hers. “I am keeping an eye on Miss Y/L/N, just as the Doctor requested.”

“It’s her free time. Let her be. There are other things that need done,” she ordered. You were grateful for her distraction, but you had a feeling you would be punished for it later on.

“Miss Y/L/N, please keep moving. Devon is otherwise occupied,” Mrs. Lynch ordered, and you scurried to obey. Leaving them behind, you raced down the hallway, running straight into the Librarian.

“Y/N! Please slow down!” She exclaimed, taking a step back. Looking up, you were ready to pass her when her eyes flashed blue.

“What the…,” you muttered, taking another step back, your eyes wide, your heart racing. Quickly her eyes turned back to their normal brown, a frown pulling at the laugh lines on her face.

“Y/N, is everything okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I…I think….I’m just going to…to…find Dean,” you stuttered, racing past her to your usual corner of the library. Wondering if you had actually seen her eyes flash a brilliant shade of blue, or if it was your medicine making you imagine things. Because there was no way a person’s eyes could literally glow like that.

You could see Dean sitting in his usual seat, his journal clutched tight to his chest. His eyes seemed vacant, his entire body rocking slightly back and forth. Your slippered foot making no sound on the carpet floor, you were almost to him when a switch seemed to be flipped inside your mind.

Voices, loud voices echoed through your head, almost as if a radio had been turned on inside your brain. Never making any sense, talking in a language sounding ancient and almost alien. It was the loudest it had ever been, so overpowering you felt yourself falling to your knees.

“Y/N!” Dean called out, dropping his book as you pressed your hands to your temples, trying to block the loud voices. Hands reached up, grasping your shoulders, but you shook them away. The touch was too much with the voices screaming inside your head, and you knew you would do anything to make them stop.

“Please!! Make them stop!” You screamed, your hands tightening against your head, pulling at your hair. Never even noticing the pain as you tried to ease the pressure in your head.

“Breathe. Just breathe,” Dean kept saying over and over, his voice calm. It was the calmness, the even tone of it that had the voices silencing as you realized something didn’t quite right.

The voices faded away as quickly as they started, a giant relief as your head finally quieted. Taking a deep breath, your hands shaking, you reached for the hem of your shirt, picking once again at the loose thread.

“Are you alright?”

“The voices, they’ve changed. Becoming louder, speaking like the people in my nightmare. Dean, what if it’s true? What if I am completely crazy?”

“You aren’t,” he answered, his eyes fluttering back and forth. “This place, there’s something wrong with it. You and I, we aren’t crazy. That’s why they keep changing our medication.”

Calming down long enough, you could see that Dean was in a frantic state, his breaths coming fast, his pupils dilated. He kept licking his bottom lip as he stared your way. “Dean, did they change your medication?”

“They wanted me to forget about Sammy,” he exclaimed, holding tight onto his journal, looking over your head. No doubt making sure there weren’t nurses to overhear. “They gave me more medicine. Telling me that it would make the pain manageable. But my hands don’t hurt! The burns don’t hurt anymore. Just my heart! I miss my brother and my best friend. Why couldn’t I save them?”

It was your turn to comfort Dean, much like he had you. Resting your hands on top of his, you made sure he was looking your way. “Dean, you did everything you could. I know you did. It wasn’t your fault.”

“But it was my fault!” He argued, straightening up, almost knocking you to the floor. “I was supposed to look after Sam. My Dad always said that was my job, and I screwed it up! Now I’m locked in here, and they’re trying to stop me from remembering!”

He stood, reaching down and grasping your hand. Pulling you tight against him, almost embracing you as he made sure you were alone. You tried ignoring the feel of his strong arms around you, the rushed beating of his heart against your cheek. You wanted nothing more than to lean into his touch, forgetting everything that was going on. But you couldn’t. “They’re watching Y/N. Always watching. They don’t like us being together.”

“The nurses?”

He nodded. “Especially Devon. Be wary of him. I’m going to try to stop taking my medicine. I suggest you do the same. I need to remember. I need to remember Sammy.”

“But the voices,” you tried arguing, stopping as Dean’s arms tightened around you.

“The voices are a clue! Don’t shut them out! Welcome them. Learn from them,” Dean insisted, just a familiar voice that sent shivers of fear down your back echoed through the library.

“Dean, I’ve got to go. If he sees us…,”

“Go,” Dean whispered, surprising you when he pressed a kiss to your head. “Be safe. And don’t forget.”


	5. Chapter 5

“Who were you talking to?” Devon asked you as soon as you stepped out from the back of the library. “I knew I shouldn’t have let you go to the library.”  
“I have every right to be in the library,” you argued, immediately regretting the outburst.  
Devon’s face turned red, his eyes nothing more than little slits as he grabbed your arm, pulling you out of the library and into a seldom-used hallway. Slamming you against the wall, he pressed his hand against your throat, trapping you there. “You will never speak to me like that again, do you understand me?”   
You tried nodding, but he was holding too tight. Your eyes wide with fright, you grasped at his hand, trying to push him away. But his grip was like steel, and you couldn’t move him.   
Struggling against his hold, you watched as his eyes flashed blue, just for a split second before turning back to normal. Just like you had seen the Librarians. “Did your eyes…,” you stuttered to a stop, immediately noticing how still Devon had become. “Wait, never mind. It’s just the medicine.”   
“It better be,” he threatened. “Because there is no way my eyes would have changed color like that. Stupid mental people.”   
Letting go of your neck, he stepped back. “Get back to your room. No stopping. You understand me?”  
“Clear,” you assured him, rushing down the hallway, holding your hand to your neck. No doubt there would a large angry bruise there tomorrow. But the nurses were used to turning a blind eye. Many a time you saw a patient walking away with a black eye, or a limp. It was best to turn a blind eye away as well, even though it hurt your heart.   
Devon shoved you into your room, slamming the door shut and locking you inside your room. You knew it would only be a matter of time before he was back, with another dose of the much-hated medicine. With your back against the door, you stared in dismay at the room surrounding you.   
The walls were a stark white, only the locked cabinet and the small window your only decorations. A small dresser sat against the other wall, a picture frame the only thing on top. It was your favorite possession, one of the few things that gave you comfort. A picture of you when you were a girl, being held in the arms of your Mother.  
You hated this room. It felt more like a prison, with Devon your guard. Perching on the edge of your bed, you rested your head in your hands. Thinking it was only going to get worse from now on. Devon would push and push, and you feared the worst would happen. The Doctor’s seemed to want you drugged most of the time, upping your medicine until you were comatose. On top of that was the strange blue eyes you hadn’t decided were real or not. And the voices inside your head. How they had changed from malicious and cruel to a language you couldn’t quite understand.   
Then there was your relationship with Dean. If you could call it that. Going up to him in the library had been the bravest thing you had done while locked away in here. It had probably been the best, giving you the friendship that you hadn’t realized you had been missing. Sure, you weren’t sure you believed all of his stories completely, but you were drawn in by them. He had these moments of clarity where his sadness and heartbreak were so much that you wanted to pull him in for a hug. He was like your knight, riding in when you needed him the most. You just hoped that it wouldn’t get him into trouble one day.  
Without any warning whatsoever, your door was shoved open, slamming so hard against the wall that the plaster cracked. “Dinner time!” Devon exclaimed, a tray in his hands.   
“But I thought...what about the cafeteria?” You asked, hoping that you could have seen Dean during dinner.  
“No cafeteria for you,” he answered gleefully. You could see he was quite happy about the fact, but you weren’t exactly sure why. “You are under house arrest. For as long as I deem appropriate.”  
“But why? I haven’t done anything,” you started to argue, then immediately thought better of it.   
Setting the tray down hard on your nightstand, Devon loomed over you, his hands resting on his hips. “Not yet. But the Doctor’s worried about you. He’s not sure making friends is the best thing for you right now. Rest and relaxation are what he’s ordered.”  
“I’m to be stuck in this room?”  
“For the most part. With just me for company,” he winked before sitting down next to you on the bed. Immediately your senses were on high alert, and you wanted to move away from him. But you didn’t, knowing the slightest move would anger him. “I think we could find a couple of ways to pass the time.”   
Closing your eyes, you held your breath as his hand slid up your thigh, the warmth of his touch easily reaching you through the thin blue pajama pants you wore. “Please don’t,” you whispered.  
Growling, he pushed you down so you were laying sideways on the bed, his hand coming up to rest possessively on top of your breast. “You are mine. My possession to do with as I please. No one here will help you. Not the Doctor, not Dean. You might as well get used to it. Or not. I don’t mind a fight.”  
Leaning down, he pressed his lips to your neck, his hand kneading your breast hard enough to hurt. His other hand moved down, sliding below the elastic of your pants. Your eyes squeezed shut, you tried to ignore it.   
But as his hand slid into your panties, you could feel this rage growing inside you. A white-hot rage that had your skin boiling. Bright white lit behind your eyes, the hair on your neck standing tall. “What the…,” Devon started to say, noticing the change in you as well.  
“Leave me alone!” You screamed, pushing at his chest with your hands. Strength like you had never known before lifted him easily from you, crashing him into the opposite wall. Standing up, towering over him, you felt electrified, stronger than you had ever felt before. You weren’t that scared, cowering girl anymore. The voices were loud, but they no longer scared you. You understood them, your eyes widening slightly as you heard Dean Winchester’s name whispered over and over again. “Do not touch me again!”  
“You crazy bitch!” Devon yelled at you, rushing through the door, slamming it and locking it behind him. The lights flickered, and as suddenly as the power had consumed you, it was gone. Extremely tired, you fell back on the bed, wondering what had just happened.


	6. Chapter 6

Slowly blinking your eyes, wondering exactly when you had fallen asleep. Your arms were shaky, your body extremely sore and weak. “What happened?” You whispered, rubbing your head, trying to rid yourself of the terrible pounding headache that tormented you.

It took a moment to realize that the loud pounding was not completely in your head, but was coming from your closed door. “Go away,” you muttered, turning to curl back into a tight ball and fall back to sleep.

“Y/N?” Dean called out. “Are you okay?”

Suddenly the memories from yesterday came slamming to the front of your mind, reminding you that Devon had come close to raping you last night. But that wasn’t the part that confused you. It was the power that had run through your fingertips, saving you when you had needed help.

You also remembered how the voices in your head had changed. Chanting a single name over and over. A very familiar name. The name of the man currently banging on your door.

Stumbling to your feet, you moved the short distance to the door, struggling to pull it open.

Dean slipped inside, shutting the door before putting his back to it. “Y/N, are you alright? You’ve been locked in here for over a day.”

“It’s been that long,” you whispered, returning back to your bed. Sinking down onto the thin mattress, you patted the spot beside you. “I hadn’t realized.”

“I saw Devon locked away in the staff room, looking grumpier than ever,” Dean explained. “He had a huge bruise on his cheek, and I immediately knew it had something to do with you. Are you okay?”

“Why do the voices in my head keep saying your name?” You blurted out, Dean’s eyes widening. “They went from such negative and cruel thoughts to a language I couldn’t understand. And now they kept repeating one name over and over again. Your name. The same time this power rolled through me, shooting from my hand.”

“My name?”

“Yes. You’re the only Dean Winchester that I know. How are you connected to the voices in my head, and do you know anything about this power that’s somehow coursing through me?”

“Y/N you are the only one who has sat and listened to my stories,” Dean spoke slowly. “You never treated me like I was completely insane even though we’re both in a mental hospital. I’m going to tell you something, and I don’t want you freaking out.”

“Dean, I’m in a mental hospital. There is staff who want to attack me, and I’ve been hearing voices for quite some time. I’m pretty sure I’m already freaking out.”

Standing up, Dean peeked out the window, before turning back to face you. “I think I’ve told you my brother and I hunted monsters.”

“Yeah, you told me. That’s how you lost both him and your best friend.”

“Well, my best friend was an Angel. And he had what we called Angel radio in his head. He could hear Angels talking in their ancient language. I believe that’s what you’ve been hearing. But I have no idea why you, and why we are both put together in this place.”

Clasping your hands together, you stared down at them. “I don’t know what’s going on. But it’s scaring me. What if people are really out to get us, and this is just a place...Wait! I remember something!”

Hands on his hip, he stared at you. “What? What did you remember?”

“Devon, and someone else. Their eyes both flashed blue. What does that mean?”

“That means we’re surrounded by Angels,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. You could easily see how frustrated he was, just as you were. “I wonder if…,”

Before he could voice his thoughts your door was thrown open, an angry Devon stepping inside, quickly followed by the Doctor and an unknown nurse. “I see you two have been busy. Dean, it’s good to see you again.”

“I don’t…,” Dean started, but with a wave of his hand, the Doctor muted Dean. “No, this is where the two of you listen.”

Devon came to stand beside you, an angry bruise on his face, his eyes full of hate and loathing. But also lust, which scared you more than anything. “I had hoped this little ruse would have lasted a little longer. But you and Dean, you always seem to figure things out.”

“Dean and I knew each other before?” You whispered, turning to stare at Dean wide-eyed.

“Oh sweetheart, you and Dean definitely knew each other before. Very well,” the nurse sneered. “I just can’t believe how easy the two of you find each other. No matter how many times we run this little gig, the two of you instantly seek each other out.”

“We’ve done this before?” You asked as Dean struggled against the invisible hold against him. “Why?”

“To show you,” the Doctor answered cryptically. “You and Dean have been a pain in our sides for a long time, and we needed you out of the way. Now that you’ve started to put the pieces together, we’re going to have to think of something else. Say goodbye to Dean. Again.”

Devon reached down, grasping your arm and roughly pulling you to your feet. “Why do you always have to cause so much trouble?” He muttered near your ear. “At least where I’m taking you, you’ll never see Dean again.”

Struggling against Devon’s hold, you could barely see Dean out of the corner of your eye. He was frozen in his spot, the Doctor staring gleefully down at him while the nurse held a syringe to his arm. “Wait! If this is all a ruse, what about Dean’s brother? And best friend? Are they really dead?”

“That my dear is none of your concern. Devon, take her away. Don’t have too much fun with her while we get Dean all situated. Y/N dear, say goodbye to Dean. I daresay the two of you will ever see each other again.”

Kicking back at Devon, you tried to get away. Tried to harness the power that had rolled through your fingers not so long ago. If only it would come back, then you could save both of you. But you remained powerless. “No!” You screamed, getting an elbow to his face before he slammed your head against the wall, knocking you out.


	7. Chapter 7

“Wakey, wakey,” Devon’s familiar voice pounded through your foggy brain. “We are going to have so much fun!”  
“No,” you mumbled, trying to shake your head. Groaning as it pounded and you wanted nothing more than to fall into the sweet oblivion. But Devon’s voice sent fear running through your body, tensing up as you slowly blinked your eyes open.  
“There she is,” Devon exclaimed, roughly patting your cheek. “I was wondering if you were going to sleep through everything. But that wouldn’t have been much fun. I like my victims awake. I like to hear their screams.”   
“You’re going to pay for this,” you tried threatening him, but it came out muffled. A dirty cloth had been turned into a gag, making your word intelligble.   
“Aren’t you just adorable,” he sneered, his face close to yours. “But as you can see, it’s just you and me in this little room at the bottom of the asylum. They don’t even use this part of the building anymore. No one will ever come down here looking for you.”  
Glancing around as he spoke, you knew his words were right. The room had peeling lead paint, the metal around the edges rusted. Surprised the florescent lights even worked, you only saw one door with a heavy, rusted handle. The only way out, not that you were going anywhere. He had you tied to a metal frame, both your ankles and wrists tied tight enough to cut into your skin. Vintage looking machines sat off to the far side, covered in dust and cobwebs.   
“I bet a million thoughts are running through that pretty little head of yours,” he continued, heading over to the machines, running his hand along the control boards. “They said that with these machines they could fix that. Get rid of all those things that make you tick. Turn you into a meek little person who would follow my every order. Sounds kind of interesting.”  
Struggling against the ropes holding you in place, your eyes widened when the machines started working. “A little Angel magic,” Devon explained, winking your way. “But before we start with that, let’s get a couple of other things out of the way.”   
In a split second he was back by your side, his hot breath against your neck, his hand pressing hard on your belly. “So have you remembered anything else about your previous life? Before we plucked you away and placed you in this shithole?”   
Before you could even shake your head he continued. “I was always jealous of Dean. I watched the two of you from afar, wishing I could pull you away from Dean. Have this sweet little body to myself. After all, we used to be Angels in the same garrison. But you had to go and fall for a stupid hunter. You gave up everything! We could have ruled with God gone.”  
“I’m an Angel?” You mumbled into the cloth, your heart beating fast as it all started to make sense. The way you had been drawn to Dean. How his stories hadn’t sounded crazy at all. The weird voices in your head, the power slipping from your fingers. You were an Angel. One that couldn’t remember anything.   
“That’s not all!” He told you gleefully, his hand sliding underneath your shirt, lightly running his hand along your skin, making you gag. “Sam’s not dead. Neither’s Cas. Can you imagine how fun it was to make Dean believe that? To see the anguish on his face. They’re both alive and kicking, and have no idea where the two of you are.”  
It was a relief, even though you couldn’t remember them, to know they were alive. Dean would be so happy. If Dean was…, you couldn’t think about that. Not right now.   
His hand slid up, brushing against the under side of your breast, his lips against your neck. As his rough hand squeezed your tender skin, he spoke again. “Want to hear the best part?”  
Trying to get away from him, you let out a squeal as he reached down, his hands skimming under the elastic waistband of your pants. “No!” You screamed. The gag had turned wet with your drool, getting pushed even farther into your mouth, making you gag.   
Your struggle only seemed to excite him as his other hand reached up to rip your shirt in half, giving him easy access to your breasts. Biting down hard on your ear, he shoved his hands between your legs, and with your ankles tied you couldn’t stop him. “It’s not just and Dean. You broke Angel laws. You birthed a nephilim. You knew it wasn’t right, but you did it anyways.”   
You stilled at his words, wondering if it was true. Or if he was trying to torture you even more. “She’s beautiful. Looks so much like you. And only a couple of us Angels knows where she is. You’ll never see your daughter again.”  
Roughling shoving his finger into your dry entrance, he leaned down, biting your breast. That, on top of the news he had just given you, sent a wamrth spreading through you. It was powerful, spreading from your toes to the hair on your head. Tilting your head back, you let the light shine from your eyes before a blast of energy erupted from every pore.   
Devon flew away from you, slamming against the wall, his head connecting with the steel. The ropes holding both your wrists and ankles disappeared and your shirt was magically fixed. Standing up, you felt as if every nerve was on fire, your body humming with energy.  
The machines on the side turned on, connected through your energy. Raising a hand, you disintegrated the door. Almost floating with the power surging through you, you gave Devon one more look. He hadn’t moved, his head hanging awkwardly to the side.   
Stepping through that door was like stepping through a time machine. Memories rushed into your mind, almost sending you to your knees. Thousands of memories, from the beginning of time to being captured by Angels and brought here. Feeling as if your head was splitting in two, you clutched your head, the power slowly fading away.  
“Ava,” you whispered memories of your sweet little baby girl breaking your heart. She was beautiful, with her dark golden hair and deep green eyes. She was something you had never expected to have, to love as much as you did. The day the Angels had taken her away from you had been the worst day of your life.


	8. Chapter 8

If you had looked in the mirror, you wouldn’t have recognized the woman looking back. Your hair seemed to float around you, charged with electricity. Every nerve in your body was humming. Gone was the normal e/c eyes. They glowed a bright blue, full of the power strumming through your body.   
Your energy glowed all around you. With just a flick of your wrist, the steel door in front of you slammed open, a staircase leading up towards Dean. And freedom, not to mention revenge. Feeling such hatred for the Angels who had torn your family apart clouded your mind, fueling the power sparking at your fingertips. You wanted nothing more than to rip all of them to shreds for what they had done. Sure, they might have been your family at one time, but they had lost that privilege the second they messed with Dean and your daughter. Not to mention Sam and Cas.  
The stairs were coated with dust and grime and your slippers had long since vanished. You didn’t notice as you steadily climbed up out of the depths, plans forming in your mind. Fear tried to pry through your fury. Fear that Dean wasn’t alive, that you would be too late. Pushing it down, you focused on the hatred and fear, letting it continue to fuel the energy coursing through you just as you came to the main floor.   
If it had been a different situation, you would have taken stock of the situation, trying to sneak your way through the building to rescue Dean. But you were done playing by their rules. You hadn’t been yourself in who knows how long, and the power felt good. It felt right, as did ending all of these Angels who had taken part in your torture.   
With only a flick of your wrist, the door flew open, cracking against the wall. Clenching your jaw tight, you walked down the hallway, heading straight for Dean’s room, hoping you would find, and the doctor there.   
The once pristine white hallways were a grimy gray, the enchantment fading now that it was no longer needed. Doors hung off their hinges, rooms empty, beds nothing more than springs and rotting material. This place hadn’t been used for quite some time.   
At the end of the corridor, an Angel bounded around the corner, their sleek Angel blade grasped tightly in his hand. “Y/N, you’re free!”  
“You will pay for what you have done,” you growled deep in your throat. Raising your hand, you curled it into a fist, the Angel in front of you screaming in pain. In the blink of an eye, you were standing in front of him, his eyes full of fear. “What did you do with Dean? And my daughter!”  
He raised his hands up, trying to lighten the pressure around his larynx. “Dean is alive. Being held in his room. But your daughter, I don’t know! I wasn’t part of that!”   
“Liar!” You screamed. Placing your hand on his forehead, you watched in amusement as his grace burned from the inside out, his eyes turning to nothing more than ash. Releasing your hold, you stepped back as his body fell to the ground.   
Picking up the discarded blade, you held it tightly in your hand as you turned the corner. Dean’s room was off to the left, at the very end. Two Angels stood guard, glancing down at you curiously. With a snap of your fingers, golden light sparked from their eyes, burning from the inside out. Crying out in pain, they fell to the ground, dead instantly.   
The power made you fearless. But it wasn’t just that. With your memories in your head, the power surging through your body, most of your emotions were held at bay. All you cared about was revenge. Making sure that no harm ever came to your family again.  
With your chin high, your eyes still blazing blue, you snapped the door off of it’s hinges. It fell to the ground in pieces, dust swirling around, giving you the element of surprise.   
Quietly, while the Doctor yelled for his guards, you slid into the room, settling into the corner. It gave you a moment to see what wasa going on. The Angel playing Doctor was standing at the foot of Dean’s bed, his white lab coat no longer pristine but covered in blood and dust. He had a wicked looking tool in his hand, his eyes wide as he waited for the dust to clear.   
Dean was laying on the bed, his wrists and ankles bound with rope to the iron rails. His face was a mass of bruises and cuts, his green eyes barely a slit. His shirt had been ripped open, his chest marked with sigils cut deep into the skin. How he could even be alive after such torture you weren’t sure. But you did know that this maniac Angel doctor would pay for what he did.   
“How dare you mess with my family,” you muttered low. Raising your hand, you squeezed your fist tight, planning on sending the evil Doctor to Hell. Or the empty where most Angel’s were sent. He gasped, clawing at his neck, and you squeezed harder. “You took away everything I love. Everything I lived for. Now tell me. Where is our daughter?”  
You glanced over at Dean after you said those words, seeing his one good eye open wide. So, he hadn’t been told yet, or his memories brought back. They were torturing him, and he didn’t even know the whole story.   
“Your parlor tricks won’t work on me,” the Doctor choked out. Closing his eyes, he mumbled under his breath and when he opened them back up, they were as bright of a blue as yours. “You might be one of the most powerful Angel’s in the world, but you are no match for me little girl.”   
With a snap of his fingers, you were thrown against the wall, your head colliding painfully with the brick. Leaving you at the wall, he returned back to Dean’s side, running the wicked looking blade along his bare skin. “Having you two so lost and confused has been the highlight of my life. And it’s been a long life. Y/N, I had such great plans for you. You were so powerful, so full of energy. You could have become my greatest weapon. Instead, you decided to fall in love with a simple mortal. A hunter at that. To make matters worse, you birthed a Nephilim. Who might grow up to be the most powerful being ever in existence.”   
“You think doing this will make me bend to your will? Because all I want to do right now is tear you limb by limb.”  
Tilting his head to one side, he smiled at you. A malicious evil smile. “Maybe this will change your mind. Dean, this might hurt a bit.” Taking the sharp blade, he pushed down on Dean’s freckled skin, and you watched in horror as it sank down, deep into Dean’s belly. Dean let out a guttural scream, his eyes rolling back in his head.


	9. Chapter 9

Blood dripped down Dean’s side, pooling on the side of the table. His eyes had rolled back in his head, the pain too much for him to bear. Leaving the blade in Dean’s side, the Doctor turned to face you, wiping Dean’s blood on his dress slacks. “Do you see this? This is all your fault. If you had done what I had asked, you wouldn’t be watching the love of your life being killed. Your daughter wouldn’t be in the hands of Angels. Because they wouldn’t exist.”   
You struggled against his hold, trying to figure out how he could be powerful enough to keep you in place. You could feel the power, the grace still flowing through you, searching for an outlet. A way to help you save those that mattered most.   
There was no window open. No fan turned on, but still the papers on the desk fluttered, the curtains billowing. The sky outside had been clear, a vibrant bright blue. But it was now a cloudy gray, lightning flashing in the distance. “Leave my family alone!” You screamed, your hair floating around your face, golden light flickering from your fingertips.   
He just laughed, turning his back to you. “You might be powerful, but I know you. I know all of your tricks, what makes you tick. You’ll never be able to get past my guard.”   
“No!” You screamed, fury pushing your powers to their limit. Your vision was hazy, your fingertips numb as the windows shattered, sending shards of glass flying inwards. The Doctor had a split second to look surprised before he was thrown against the wall, glass slamming into his skin, his face ashen as he looked down.  
“This won’t kill me,” he muttered, shaking as you took a step toward him. Dean lay still on the surgery table, his face pale, blood starting to pool on the ground below him. None of the glass had hit him, and you gently pushed him out of the way.   
“Oh, I know that. A simple death is too easy for you after what you’ve done. If Dean wasn’t...I would spend the next year making sure you paid for what you’ve done to us. But I don’t have time for that now.”   
“Please…,” the Doctor started to stutter, blood dripping from his mouth as you used your powers to repeatedly slam him into the shattered glass. “I’ll do anything. I can...tell you where your daughter is.”  
You paused for a moment, considering his offer. But you knew it was just a ploy, a way to get a handle on the situation once again. Sure, there was a slight possibility that he would give you the news you so desperately wanted. But it would probably be nothing more than a trap, and you couldn’t afford to have him walking this earth still. “I’m sorry, but no matter how much I want my daughter back, I can’t trust you.”   
He started to fight back then, once he realized you weren’t going to spare him. He was powerful, even while his skin was being shredded with broken glass, and for a moment you weren’t sure you would be able to hold him. But the sight of Dean laying lifeless on the gurney behind you, and the thought of your daughter being held against her will had you doubling your hold. Your eyes glowed a bright, vibrant blue, as you floated slightly off the ground. With a guttural scream, you placed your hand over his forehead, closing your eyes as his entire being glowed a brilliant gold.   
It seemed to take hours or days, but in only a matter of seconds, the Angel who had done so much damage to your life lay lifeless on the glass covered floor. His eyes were burnt to a crisp, the skin around it burned so deep it appeared black. Blood dripped from his mouth and multiple spots throughout his body.   
With him no longer a threat, your power drained suddenly, and you fell limply to the floor. Your entire body felt full of lead, heavy and unmoveable. Your skin was flushed, your head pounding harder than you had ever felt before. Every pump your heart took echoed in your ears and in every limb, and you wanted nothing more than to let the darkness consume you. But you could see Dean, his hand hanging over the edge of the cart. You weren’t sure if he was alive, but the hope that he was had you struggling to your feet. “Dean,” you called out, your voice raspy, your throat raw. Reaching slowly, achingly up to your face, you felt the sticky residue of blood that had trickled from your eyes.   
It took three attempts before you were on your feet, your knees shaking as they tried to hold your weight. Grasping the chair beside you, your breaths came shallow and painful. Using the chair as a crutch, you slowly made your way towards Dean, the glass crunching under your feet, sinking into your thin shoes. It was painful, but you continued to move forward, pushing your body past the breaking point.   
Tears streaked down your cheeks as you peered down at Dean. His skin was ashen, tears of pain dried on his freckles. Blood covered the majority of his body, wounds refusing to heal. Raising your hand, you tried to find a heartbeat, your own frozen in fear that it wouldn’t be there.  
It was slight, barely there, but you felt his pulse under your hand. Thanking however had been looking after him, you held your hand weakly over him, trying to bring forth the healing power you knew you carried.  
Seconds ticked by and nothing happened. “Please,” you begged yourself, wanting the last little bit of strength in you to heal the man you loved more than anything.   
You tried again, closing your eyes and putting everything you had into healing Dean. But the power that had run so strongly through you was nothing more than a trickle, healing on his slightest wounds.   
Slumping against the gurney, your head hanging over Dean’s chest, your tears mixing with his blood. It wasn’t until the sound of booted footsteps clambered down the hallway that you slowly lifted your head up. If it was more of the Angelic henchmen, you weren’t sure you would be able to keep them away from you and Dean.   
Pushing Dean behind you, you stood there, trying to hide the fact that your knees were shaking, your hands trembling. Taking a deep breath, you watched as two men stepped into the room. Angel blades were held loosely in their hands, covered in blood. A flannel chest heaved beside one covered in a tan trenchcoat.   
Your gaze slowly lifted, finding two pairs of eyes staring at you wide-eyed. One pair a vibrant blue, the other a kind hazel. Both very familiar. “Sam? Cas?” You called out before your legs gave way and you fell to the floor.


	10. Chapter 10

Sam raced over to catch you as you fell, gently wrapping his arms around you. “Shh, we’re here now,” he assured you, his eyes full of pain. Cas had raced over to Dean who was still unresponsive on the gurney behind you, his eyes searching over Dean’s body in horror.   
“Cas, can you heal him?” Sam asked, trying to help you to your feet. Your legs wobbled, your entire body shaking with exhaustion.   
“I think so,” Cas muttered. “But it’s going to take a lot of work, and I will be weak afterward. Very weak.”   
Grinding his teeth together, Sam took a deep gulping breath. “We need to get out of here. Find someplace safe where we can get this all fixed. Y/N, do you think there are more guards out there?”   
I don’t know,” you answered meekly, your legs threatening to buckle. “I took most of them out, but…,”   
Sam slid his arm under your knees, lifting you up with ease. “Cas, you’ve got Dean. Let’s get the hell out of here.”   
Sam led the way, moving quietly through the wrecked hallways, his boots crunching the lead paint and broken glass as he headed towards the front entrance of this horrid place. Your eyes started to drift shut, but you force them back open, needing to be aware of your surroundings. Both Sam and Cas were handicapped with you and Dean, and you needed to help them as much as possible.   
Cas was pushing Dean’s gurney behind the two of you, Dean’s head lulling to the side, and you could feel your heart in your throat, hoping that it wasn’t too late. You wanted your family back together, and it started with both you and Dean being healthy.   
As Sam rounded the last corner, you saw movement off to the side. By the time you raised the alarm, the Angel was racing forward, his blade raised high in the air. Sam let go of you, and you fell to the floor with a thump. Sam battled the Angel, Cas moving forward to help. Another Angel was rounding the corner, eyeing the gurney with interest, and you stood up on shaky legs, knowing it was up to you to protect Dean. With your Angel blade in hand, you waited for her to get close enough that you could swipe it across, hopefully harming her in the process.   
“Just because our leader is gone doesn’t mean we’ll let you live,” she grunted, jumping back as you swiped towards her, your movements weak. “You and Dean have been a thorn in our sides for years. You need to die.”   
“No thank you,” you managed to get out, falling forward, surprising her as your blade slid in between her ribs, both of you falling to the ground. Her wings burnt out on either side of her body as you struggled to stand up.   
Sam dumped the last Angel to the ground, coming to stand beside you. “I think that’s the last of them,” he announced, helping you to your feet before picking you up in his arms.   
“And Dean?” You asked, looking around frantically for the gurney.  
Sam moved forward, his long legs easily eating up the ground between him and the doorway. “Cas is already wheeling him to the car. We’ll get the hell out of here and head back to the hotel room.”   
You nodded weakly, resting your head against Sam’s chest. With the Angel’s no longer a threat, for now, you could feel complete exhaustion taking over. Your eyelids drooped, your heart rate slowed, and before Sam even stepped beside the Impala, you were asleep in his arms. 

“Y/N,” Sam’s voice broke through the darkness surrounding. “Y/N, wake up.”   
Blinking your eyes against the bright fluorescent light, you could see Sam leaning over you, worried creases surrounding his eyes. “There you are,” he sighed. “You had us worried.”  
Your words were cut off by a long yawn, your ears popping as you moved to sit up. Your body felt like lead, barely responding to your commands. “How long was I out?”   
“14 hours,” Cas said roughly. “You were thrashing about, mumbling in your sleep at first before you became almost comatose. Sam was worried.”   
You could tell by the tense shoulders that Cas had been worried as well, even if he wasn’t going to say anything. But it was Dean who you were worried about. “Dean?” You asked, searching the room, relaxing when you saw him laying on the bed across from you. “Is he…,”   
“He’s alive,” Sam answered, staring woefully at his brother. “Cas tried to heal him but…,”   
You were sliding your legs over the edge of the bed before Sam could finish his words, your heart racing. “But what?”   
With a heavy sigh, Sam placed his hand on your shoulder. “Y/N, he hasn’t made any signs of consciousness. We don’t know if we’ve done enough. If he’ll ever…,”   
“He has to!” You argued, pulling away from Sam’s touch, your legs like rubber but still propelling you towards the other bed. Kneeling down on the stained carpet, you cupped Dean’s cheek, getting a good look at him.  
His face was pale, the stubbled stounding out against his almost grayish complexion. His face still had gashes, but they were no longer bleeding. His chest rose and fell long calm breaths. “The cuts?” You asked, moving your hand down his arm to wrap your fingers in his.  
“They wouldn’t go away. Cas tried, as hard as he could. But they wouldn’t go away. He wouldn’t wake.”   
“I tried until I had no energy left,” Cas assured you. “I don’t know why it didn’t work.”   
You stared at Dean’s face, a tear slipping down your cheek. “It has to work. I don’t know what I would do without him.”   
Both Cas and Sam’s face were drawn tight with the pain they were feeling as well. “Y/N, we need to go make sure everything is taken care of back at that warehouse. Stay with Dean, and we’ll be back as soon as possible.”   
They left, but you never lifted your head, staring at DEan as your heart shattered into a million pieces. Because your words had been true. After everything you had gone through, this couldn’t be it. You couldn’t lose him this way.


	11. Chapter 11

Time passed, Sam and Cas stayed away, and you stayed by Dean’s side. He never moved, laying there as still as a….well you didn’t want to think that far.   
The sun filtered through the blinds, slowly sinking down before fading away. Your tears had long since gone away as well, your eyes sore as you sat there, staring down at Dean.   
“This can’t be it,” You whispered for what had to be the hundredth time. “Dean, you can’t leave me.”   
“He’s still here,” a voice spoke up from behind you, startling you. Jumping up so fast your chair tipped over, you stared at the intruder.   
She held her hands up in a gesture of goodwill. Her nails were freshly manicured, her hair perfectly styled. She had a pale blue dress on, the fabric barely brushing her knees. She seemed to be in her forties, with slight wrinkles around her eyes. “Who the hell are you?” You asked, wishing you had some sort of weapong in your hand. You had no idea if your powers were back, or if they ever would be.   
“Don’t you remember me?” She asked, and you quickly searched your freshly returned memories for any sign of her.   
A picture flashed in your mind, of an Angel that spent the majority of her time in the garden with Joshua. She had been your mentor, almost like a mother figure until you left Heaven and joined the Winchesters gang. Adonai, one of the oldest and most revered Angels in history.   
Racing forward, you threw your arms around her, hugging her tight. Hoping that maybe something was starting to work in your favor. She hugged you back, brushing her hand along your tangled hair. “My girl. What a mess you’ve gotten yourself into.”  
Pulling back, you stared up into her pale blue eyes, watching intently. “Did you know? That we were being held?”  
She nodded sadly, and you stepped back, hurt and worried. “I heard, but I was locked in Heaven’s jail. There was nothing they would let me do, and I hated it. I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”   
A tear slipped down your cheek. “They took everything, My life, my memories, my child. And now they’ve taken Dean.”   
“But they’re gone now,” she assured you. “And the rest? It will come. I promise. I’m here now, and I will make sure they never take control again.”   
You hoped she was right. That she wasn’t another Angel trying to control you. Taking her at her word, for now, you turned back to Dean, who had made no improvements. “Can you fix him?”   
She walked over, placing her hand on Dean’s chest, and you stayed close by, making sure that Dean stayed safe. Hoping that Sam and Cas wouldn’t return right now.   
Adonai closed her eyes, her hand glowing a soft yellow as she scanned Dean’s body. “This is very tricky. They used some sort of poison. Strong enough to slowly kill Dean from the inside, but barely perceptible for anyone, including angels.”  
You took Dean’s hand in your own, cringing at the cold that was so unlike him. “How do we stop it? Is there some sort of antidote”   
“Angelic grace,” she answered. “Angel grace has to flow through his body, ridding it of its impurities. Only then will Dean ever be fully healthy once again.”  
The news came as no surprise to you. Of course, it would be something as rare as Angelic grace to save the man you loved. You knew what you had to do, there was no question about it.  
Just then the door opened, both Sam and Cas walking through, their arms full of fast food bags. “Y/N, we didn’t find any information at the lib...who the hell are you?” Sam yelled, dropping the food to pull out his gun. “Get away from Dean!”   
You held your hands up, stepping in front of Adonai, protecting her even though you weren’t sure you still completely trusted her yourself. “Guys, she’s here to help!”   
Sam lowered his gun, a frown still on his face as he took in the situation. Cas had his head cocked, staring at Adonai with shock. “I had heard you were gone.”  
“You know this person?” Sam asked.   
“She’s an Angel. She used to work closely with Joshua in the garden. But the past two years…,”  
“I’ve been in jail,” she answered, stepping around you. “I didn’t agree with their plans and it was either that or…,”   
It was your turn to interrupt, not wanting to wait any longer. Dean wasn’t getting any better, and sitting around talking wasn’t going to help. “Dean’s been poisoned!”   
Sam’s eyes widened, turning to Adonai for confirmation. She nodded slightly, letting you finish. “It’s some sort of Angelic poison that’s really hard to pinpoint. But there is an antidote, and we have it!”   
“What’s that?” Both Sam and Cas asked, their attention completely on you.   
“My grace. He needs angel grace to heal.”   
Sam came and sat down on the edge of the bed, while Cas frowned. “How much of your grace would he need? Just enough that you would still be an Angel?”  
Adonai pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, her attention suddenly very interested in the stain on the carpet. Giving you all the information you needed. “Y/N, no. There has to be another way. Maybe we could try just a little bit, see if it works. Because if you do this, there is no turning back.”   
Instead of answering, you stared down at Dean. His face was ashen, his lashed dark against his cheek. His chest barely rose, his lips tinged slightly blue. You knew time was not on your side.  
“I don’t think we have time to test it out and see. Dean is important to all of us. I need him here, with us. I can’t go on without him, and he needs to help find his daughter. Even if it means I turn human, I’m okay with that.”  
You could see that Sam wanted to argue. He wanted to tell you no, that you would find another way. That you didn’t have to give up your powers and grace to save his brother. But he would always choose his brother, every single time. And you didn’t blame him. You would gladly give your life so Dean could live.


	12. Chapter 12

You had resolved yourself to this decision, but you could see that both Sam and Cas hadn't. They kept glancing from you to Dean, and back again, wondering if it was worth the risk. If they could really trust this new Adonai person.

You decided to take their indecision away from them. Turning to Adonai, you rolled up your sleeves. "Okay, how do I get started?"

"You will need our help," she started. "We will help release your grace before it will be given to Dean. It should take effect within a minute or two."

It sounded so simple when she said it that way. But it wasn't simple. It was saving the man you loved by giving up the very thing that made you who you were. Grace was sacred, as unique to each Angel as was a human's DNA. Without it, you would always be incomplete. But you would be even more incomplete without Dean.

"Let's get this started," you exclaimed, taking your pocket knife from your pocket. "Like this?"

She nodded, pulling a vial from her pocket. Before Sam and Cas could even move, you slid the blade along your throat. It stung, but nothing like it would have without your grace. Blue light emitted from the cut, swirling and threatening to escape. Adonai held the vial to your throat, the light flowed down, swirling inside the glass.

You could immediately feel the effects. aS your graced escaped through the cut, your body grew weaker. Heaver. You could feel every muscle, working hard to compensate for the lack of power. Your lungs hurt, reminding you that you had forgotten to breathe.

"There, that's all of it," Adonai announced, placing the cork top on before healing you. "Y/N, you have to be the one to give it to him. And say these words. g oi grace ge heal g."

"What's that mean?" Sam spoke up. While you had been distracted, Sam had moved to your side. Struggling to stay standing you tried to answer him, just as Cas and Adonai did as well. "With this grace, we heal you."

You could feel yourself start to crumple to the ground, but Sam reached out, catching you before you fell. "Help me over to Dean," you ordered. Sam frowned but helped you until you were laying beside Dean. Taking the vial from Adonai, you pressed it against Dean's lips. "We're almost done, Dean. Then you'll be back with us."

Taking a deep breath, you whispered the words, your whispy blue grace slipping past Dean's lips. It only took seconds for him to inhale all the grace. Laying back weakly, you waited for him to get better. Adonai held her hand over Dean, searching, checking him to make sure it was working. You could see both Sam and Cas watching carefully, waiting for any sign that your sacrifice hadn't been in vain.

Slowly Dean's lips turned back to their rosy pink. His cheeks turned from ash to the light golden skin full of freckles. He took a big, deep breath, his eyes opening, unfocused and dazed. Relieved that it had worked, you leaned your head back, closing your eyes. All you wanted to do was sleep now that Dean was saved.

"What happened?" You heard Dean say and you forced yourself to focus. "And who the hell is that?"

Adonai had been standing over Dean still, her hand hovering over Dean's chest. "Dean, calm down," Sam started to say. "You've been very sick, and...,"

Dean pushed Adonai's hand away, lifting his shirt up. You watched as his shirt was removed to reveal unscarred, beautiful skin. It was then Dean turned to face you, his eyes widening when he saw how pale and exhausted you were. "Y/N, what did you do? He asked frantically. "What did you do to save me?"

Weakly, you reached over, brushing your hand against Dean's cheek. "What had to be done. Dean, I needed you to be well to help find our daughter. That's what mattered."

You took a moment to appreciate the man in front of you. He was so handsome, even with his mouth drawn tight in a frown. Your grace had done its job, not only healing him from the Angelic poison, but it had also taken the burn marks from his arms.

"Dean, were those burn marks on your arms just a figment of our imagination?" You asked, the memories still foggy.

Sam spoke up, shaking his head. "Those burn Mark's are from when the two of you were taken. The Angels had set a fire, and Dean raced in to save your daughter. He came back out, his arms burnt, but when he found out you were still in there, he rushed back inside, and Cas and I couldn't find you. We thought you were dead for a while."

"But they're gone now. How?" Dean asked, turning to Adonai with suspicion. "What did you do?

"Hello, Dean, it's finally nice to meet the man who swept Y/N away from her true life," Adonai spoke calmly, not phased by the ferocious hunter in front of her. "And I just reminded Y/N that she had the power to heal you."

He frowned, still not happy with the way things were turning out. His eyes pleaded with you to tell him the truth. Sighing, you reached out, holding his hand tight in yours. "You were under a powerful Angelic spell. Without my grace, you would have been dead by now."

Dean stared at you, his jaw ticking as he took km the news. "You're grace? Some of it or...,"

"I had to give all," you whispered, knowing he was going to be upset. "It would only work if I gave it all up."

"Damn it Y/N," he grumbled. "But that was a part of you. Without it, you're... you're...,"

"Human," you finished. "Yeah, but now we are both here and alive to go find our daughter. And that's what matters now."

He didn't argue, but you could tell he was still unhappy that you had sacrificed so much for him.


End file.
